More Panfin Drabbles! collab
by jubileebird
Summary: Another collection of HKxIceland drabbles, this time, a collab, with the very lovely Eylenda. The term 'panfin' is the property of Russetfan, who is a genius for coming up with it.
1. Chapter 1: Metaphor

My share of my and Eylenda's collab. These will be short, as they are as long as they need to be, which may not be long at all. I hope you like these; R&R, please!

* * *

He was the new foreign exchange student, in a new place and a new land, or something like that. Ice didn't remember, and wasn't sure if he cared, either. Did it really matter? School was so boring…

It started with a word, at the beginning of class, which evolved into a conversation. Not a particularly interesting one, either, not that either of them would remember.

It continued in the scraps of paper passed back and forth, hidden from the teacher's point of view. Simple words on paper, simple doodles and letter, but it opened up a new world for both boys. Xue—that was his name, Xue—told about his own country, his words, gracefully written, wistful and longing, even homesick at times. Ice educated him about life here, in this new country, and asked questions about the strange, foreign land Xue missed so.

They rarely spoke after that, but as time wore on, and they kept passing notes, they got a notebook to write their conversations in, and filled it up as the year wore on, with memories, good and bad, opinions, secrets that neither of them would have told out loud.

On the last day of classes, on the last day of the school year, on the last line of the last page of their notebook, Xue wrote six words, hesitantly.

Ice read them, and hid the notebook. At the end of the period, he dropped a note on Xue's desk, then gathered up his books and left.

The Asian boy opened it, and ran after the Icelander, caught his hand, and, pulling him close, kissed him.

Ice's reply had only contained one word, but it had been enough: "Yes."

* * *

And if it wasn't particularly obvious, the six words were, 'Will you go out with me'. c:


	2. Chapter 2: Seize the Day

My share of my and Eylenda's collab. These will be short, as they are as long as they need to be, which may not be long at all. I hope you like these; R&R, please!

* * *

Life with Yao had been slow. The elder nation had been deliberate in what he did, always pondering his next move, keeping to himself, which meant Hong Kong was hidden away, with him. And while it had been peaceful in its tranquility... for a young boy, even if he didn't display his emotions, having been taught from youth that this was a bad thing, to show everyone what you were thinking, ...it was boring. To be blunt. Which, you know... Asians were not. Except for Korea, but Xue-Zhong didn't see him often.

Then, with the coming of the Westerners, the Americans and the Brits and the French and Russians, and Germans, everything had changed. The tranquility was shattered, broken beyond repair, Hong Kong was forced to see that his beloved Da Ge wasn't as strong as he'd thought, and the things they did to them, made them do...

In the end, of course, as all the world knows now, he was given up to he of the fuzzy eyebrows, England. Torn away from his homeland, forced to learn English and wear suits and submit to mockery and taunts, missing his brother, always, though there were times that England was nice, a bit... Hong Kong watched, and learned, silent and thoughtful. He met other colonies and former colonies of England's: India, America, Canada, Sealand... and neighboring countries, like France (Who was weird) Spain (Who rather creeped him out) and the Nordic countries, Greece, Turkey, Austria...

One day, Arthur went out, locking the door behind him, reasoning that that would be enough to stop a little boy from getting out and getting into mischeif. Xue stared at the door after it had closed, then walked off to his room, climbed out the window, and proceeded to explore the world outside of England's house.

He happened upon another boy he vaguely recognised as one of the Nordics, who was clutching a little bird and staring at him with a face as blank as his own. "...Who are you?" they asked at the exact same time, in different languages, then paused, blinked, and asked, "Who are you?" again, in English. Xue tilted his head, deciding to speak first.

"...Wang Xue-Zhong," he answered, bowing a little and then sticking out his sleeve-covered hand, as he'd seen Europeans do in greeting. "...Hong Kong." The other boy stared at the hand for a moment before shaking it clumsily.

"... Eiríkur Danmörsson," he replied quietly. "...Ísland."

They stared at each other for a while longer, before Iceland cleared his throat. "Uhm," he started, hugging his puffin closer. Xue tilted his head.

"... Do you want to play together?" he inquired, his still-thin eyebrows drawing together to form a little crease on his forehead. The other boy hesitated, then nodded eagerly. From then on, whenever he was bored and Arthur wasn't looking, Hong Kong would sneak out and go play with Iceland, since even at that age, he knew Arthur wouldn't approve of their friendship. And over time, friendship grew into best-friendship, until they could laugh- yes, /laugh/ and joke about most anything, and when they hung out together, they were so comfortable with each other that when people say them, they thought that the two were dating.

A while later, when Hong Kong was a little older, England was out and Xue was confined to the house... "Grounding", Arthur had called it. It was a foreign concept to the young Asian... after all, Chinese children didn't get grounded. Punished, yes, but not grounded. So strange... He was sitting on his bed, cross-legged and rather bored, wondering if he should make dinner for himself- he didn't trust England's cooking anymore, and though he was still learning how to cook, himself, even his egg tarts (Modified from a recipe from Portugal) were better than England's scones, not that that was anything to judge by.

Italy burst in randomly.

Hong Kong nearly fell off the chair he was standing on to get the sugar, eyes wide with shock, but face otherwise composed. In other words, blank. He jumped off said chair lightly, bowed a little, as he hadn't quite been whitewashed enough to rid him of the habit yet, and asked quietly, voice as emotionless as his face, "...Welcome, Mr. Italy. I apologise, Mr. England is not here right now..." he frowned a little at his strange accent.

After much confusion and random conversation, they ended up with Xue sitting at the table while Feliciano made pasta, since Hong Kong had only had noodles before, and Italy insisted that pasta was better than noodles. While the European chattered, the Asian sat there, back straight, eyes dull, only half listening. After a while, a heaping plate- too much, really- of pasta smothered with sauce was plopped down in front of Hong Kong, and he was shown how to twirl pasta on his fork.

The Italian watched the Asian pick at his food, then frowned suddenly, poking Xue. "Hey! You're too quieeeeet," he declared, as it was a discovery he'd just made. Really, Feli, sometimes, you're as dense as America. "Ve, Hong Kong, I'm going to give you two words of advice, okay?" While Xue stared at him, startled, Italy continued, "Carpe diem!"

Hong Kong kept staring.

Italy grinned at him, and jumped up to go. "Remember it, okaaay? Enjoy your pasta!" Xue stared after him long after the door had clicked shut, then dropped his gaze to the heaping mound of pasta on his plate, wondering what exactly 'carpe diem' meant.

He finished his pasta, washed the dishes, then went off to look it up in one of the encyclopedias in Arthur's study, copied it down carefully, then went back to his own small room to read it, since there was quite a lot of big words, and complicated wording- stupid encyclopedias, not saying anything succinctly- and started reading slowly, since it /was/ long and complicated, and his English, while improving, was not exactly up to par with that of England's, or even America's or Canada's.

After quite a bit of dictonary page-flipping, cursing, in English /and/ Chinese, and frowning, he had a translation, and sat back, looking at his mottled page of notes and the three-word translation, circled at the bottom. "...Seize the day." What exactly had Italy been trying to tell him? Xue thought he'd gotten used to living among Europeans, but... geez, they seemed to grow stranger every day.

Years passed, and Hong Kong remained under England's control. Not that he minded so much, anymore... after all, Arthur had become less... mean, and Xue had a friend he could hang out with and play pranks on Arthur with. On quiet days, though, when he didn't have anything to do, he'd think over Italy's strange advice again. It rather bothered him, because it didn't seem to make sense, and though Italy rarely made sense, this seemed to have some other meaning...

1997. After nearly two centuries of living in England's house, Xue was finally released to go back to his Da Ge. Yao seemed delighted to have him back, since during his absence, Hong Kong had turned into such an economic power, and was so strong now, and now, there would be another jewel to add to China's growing glory.

Xue would have none of it. He'd learned too much during his stay at England's, had broadened his outlook on the world. He wasn't the little child who'd been taken, screaming, from his big brother anymore. Hong Kong had grown up, and he wouldn't be under someone's control easily again... They debated, Hong Kong and China, and in the end, Xue got what he wanted. One country, two systems. He'd be a Special Administrative Region, like Macao, and control his own economy, while his people were ruled, for the most part, by China's laws.

He was kept busy for a very, very long time, readjusting himself to being under Chinese control again, and so had no chance to visit Iceland, or have the Nordic country over. Needless to say, Eirikur wasn't too happy about this, especially as he was having problems of his own, and could have used a friend to talk to, as they had, often, about their respective islands or cultures, or just complaining about England. When Xue /did/ get a chance to send an email to his friend, what he got back, was a long, and very angry, tirade that rather reminded him of a Howler. He replied, of course, apologetically, explaining...

The next time they saw each other was at the next World Conference, Iceland standing by Norway and Denmark, Hong Kong slightly behind China. As America blabbered on, they stared at each other, then turned away, something that did not go unnoticed by the elder countries, and of course, Hong Kong was interrogated by China about it, who didn't seem to have a very good opinion on it all. Iceland wasn't rich anymore, Iceland wasn't Asian, Iceland wasn't a good match for him, Iceland this, Iceland that... As with any other teenager who'd gotten a scolding about a friend, the scolding rather encouraged Hong Kong in his friendship.

On Iceland's end was a similar scolding. Hong Kong wasn't a country, despite his excellent economy, he was Asian, he was this, and that... In the end, unlike Hong Kong, who had stood there silently and polite and endured it all, Iceland stormed off, annoyed. He wasn't a child, he could take care of himself. And, goddammit, Hong Kong was his best friend, and he wasn't going to let Norway's opinion sway him on this.

They quite literally crashed into each other, Iceland seeking to get away from Norway, Hong Kong seeking to get away from China. Ice fell without seeing who he'd crashed into, and, of course, let out an angry, "Watch where you're going!" Icelanders: not polite, never polite. Icelandic didn't even have a word for 'please'.

Hong Kong recovered his balance, a tiny smile tugging at his lips at the familiar voice, even in its anger. "It's good to see you, too, Ice," he answered quietly, reaching out a hand to the other boy. Ice frowned at him, but took it anyway, and used it to pull himself up.

"You stupid Asian," he scolded. "I could have gotten hurt. Where have you been all these months? I..." He paused, and looked away, cheeks faintly pink. "...I /missed/ you, you idiot." Xue opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, his reply unsaid, and just... looked at Ice, considering.

Unbidden, Italy's words came back to him. Strange, really... Hong Kong hadn't thought about it in months, ever since he'd been consumed with adjusting back to being under China's control.

Carpe diem. _Seize the day._

Ice, thinking that the other boy wasn't going to reply, turned to go, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like, "Never mind." Xue stepped forward, catching the Nordic's arm, and pulled Ice toward him, his dark eyes unreadable. Ice gave a slightly indignant sound, but was soon silenced by a gentle kiss.

"W-what was that-?" Ice burst out, immediately flushing red. Xue placed a finger on his friend's lips, and Ice stopped talking, though the mutinous look in his eyes clearly said he rather wanted to bite the offending finger.

"Ice. I like you," Hong Kong told him bluntly. "...Go out with me." Ice turned his head away from Xue's hand, frowning.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?"

Xue paused. "...Both. I think. ...Uhm. Asking?" Ice stared at him for a moment, trying not to laugh at Xue's own awkward confidence, then burst out laughing anyway.

"...Fine. You stupid Asian." Xue rolled his eyes, sighing with relief, then poked Ice's cheek, trying to stop the laughter, and Ice smacked his hand away, so Xue caught the hand and kissed it, a gentlemanly gesture he'd learned from England a long time ago. Ice snatched his hand back, flushing again, and Xue smiled.

From the end of the deserted hallway, Italy smiled knowingly.

* * *

...Uhm. So. Yeah. I hope you liked it, that it wasn't terrible or anything... Review, please! I'd like to know what you all think.


	3. Chapter 3: Lost Scene

My share of my and Eylenda's collab. These will be short, as they are as long as they need to be, which may not be long at all. I hope you like these; R&R, please!

* * *

It was a long time ago, and he wasn't even sure if the other country remembered it.

Two young country personifications, though one of them wasn't even a country, and the other had been a full-fledged country barely ten years, a blink of an eye, for beings like them.

Hong Kong had been living with England for a century, give or take, and had nearly resigned himself to remaining a crown colony for, prehaps, all of eternity. The voices of his brothers, his sister… what did they sound like? Some of them he saw occassionally, when he accompanied Mr. England to World Conferences, as a show of power. Most of them, he did not. And after a while, it was hard to miss them, when he didn't even remember them well… he'd been very young, after all.

Iceland was new to being a country, was new to having to look out for his own affairs instead of relying on his brothers to take care of him, and it was lonely. He was a young nation, and, well… there weren't many countries he knew, much less talked to, and not many other young nations, either.

He found Hong Kong, alone in a corner looking out a window. "…Hey, my name's Iceland," the Nordic offered as a greeting. The Asian blinked up at him with blank, dark eyes, and shrugged a greeting. Right then and there, Iceland decided that he was sick and tired of being cold and formal. It's not like he was cold through and through, anyway.

"You're so uptight," he replied, pulling at the other's sleeve. Hong Kong looked startled at actually being asked to play with the Nordic country, but followed. "Come on, let's explore…"

Iceland gave a slight cough, and Hong Kong looked up, startled, then smiled. "What /are/ you thinking?" demanded the Nordic, hands on hips. Hong Kong shook his head, and kissed him on a pale cheek that quickly flushed with colour.

"…Nothing, really," he answered, linking their fingers. "…Just the day we first met… Do you remember?" The other country rolled his eyes, leaning against him.

"It was so long ago, all I remember is pissing the hell off of England," he scoffed, then looked confused as Hong Kong laughed quietly.

"…Nothing, nothing…" He tilted his head to give the other a kiss. "… I love you."

* * *

...Short, I know, especially after the previous one, and I don't know if it even makes sense... But, I hope you guys like it, and... review, please!

Ani


	4. Chapter 4: Crumble

Prompt: Crumble

Hong Kong's POV

Every single one of my drabbles are separate from each other unless otherwise noted. My historical references may be a bit out of whack, so please correct me if I'm wrong~

Part of my collab with Eylenda; I do not own Hetalia, World Conferences, Hong Kong, England, Iceland, Norway, Sealand or America. Just the story.

* * *

Their first meeting, during a World Conference, he at England's side, Iceland at Norway's. A cursory, blank glance, a polite greeting, and then that was it.

Later, randomly wandering around Europe, as Hong Kong was wont to do whenever he felt like it, as England gave him more freedom- meeting Iceland again, and spending the day with him, out of boredom, curiosity, and loneliness. Later that night, he realised he'd felt an actual connection to the Nordic country, who had somehow understood him the way Peter and Alfred and Arthur never could. Maybe it was because of their similar mindsets? Whatever it was, he wanted to see Iceland again.

More and more frequent meetings. Smiles exchanged, phone numbers- soon, they were friends, the best of friends, who told each other nearly everything about their lives.

1997- England finally sent Hong Kong back to live with China, and Hong Kong spent a month arguing with China over their new living arrangements. There was no way in hell he was going to switch over to communism so quickly. Hong Kong had learned to like his democracy and his independence and his free economy. Of course, Iceland got every detail.

Another World Conference meeting, so like their first, but for the fact that they weren't with others. Dark eyes, unreadable as ever, blue-purple ones, uncharacteristically anxious. A quick pull into an abandoned hallway, a whispered, hasty, nerve-wracking confession, and a very unexpected kiss. Shock, relief, normally winter-pale cheeks flushed with pink, and a rare smile from the Asian before him.

They walked back to the conference table holding hands.

Over the next few years. Flurries of emails, letters, packages, calls, texts and video chats, and getting together every chance they got.

_Hong Kong... in the event that we ever break up, God forbid... we'll still be best friends, right? Just like always._

_Of course, Iceland. _

_Promise?_

_Promise._

2008. Icesave. Hong Kong was busy with China's Olympic Games, but called every chance he got, fearing for his sick boyfriend, despite China's own annoyance with him- Hong Kong should have put his all into helping set China on the world stage, helped to make this Olympic Games the best yet, helped with this, that, aru... Hong Kong was already letting China build new stadiums on his land, what more did the older Asian want? Family duty, complained China- Family duty, Hong Kong, have you forgotten what you owe me aru? Who do you think raised you, sheltered you, gave you food to eat and the clothes on your back? What, now that you're old enough to fly, you don't care about your old brother? That England has taught you such bad manners, aru... You, you... zázhǒng!

It stung, but Hong Kong ignored it.

_I love him. More than anything. I want him to be safe, well, happy... if I can't make that happen by myself, at least I can support him when he needs it._

More time passed, and they only grew busier, especially with the world economy plunging like it was. Through it all, they stayed in contact, though they saw each other less and less, and every time Hong Kong saw Iceland, he would always be with Norway, looking sick as ever...

Texts unanswered, never online, lack of communication put down to work- after all, they both certainly had a lot of it. But never this much that Iceland wouldn't even reply with a word, or two...

Despair, wondering- _what did I do wrong?_, alone even in this sea of people that was his beloved city. Looking up at the nonexistent stars in the light-polluted sky, wondering about the other boy, the only one on his mind, the one he though constantly of... what was he doing now? Was there a reason why he was... avoiding him?

_What have I done wrong? Someone, please tell me..._

The next World Conference, Iceland pulling Hong Kong into an abandoned hallway near the end of the event, pale eyes glum. They were so far apart, all the time, it was hard, they were physically /teenage boys/, they deserved better than writing and texting all the time, he wanted human contact, more of it... And they were so busy, that they had to be apart all the time... Please don't hate me, Hong Kong.

_So are you breaking up with me?_

_...It sounds so harsh...  
__Yes, I am._

_...I understand._

_...We'll still be friends, right?_

_...We promised, Iceland... Of course we will._

A quiet nod of acceptance- what could he do? To argue would make Iceland unhappy, and even after this, Hong Kong still loved him, still wished for his happiness, above all... Walking back to the conference room was awkward, though thankfully they were both one of the more blankfaced countries (never mind that Hong Kong technically wasn't a country), flying back to their respective territories...

Hong Kong stared out of his window, staring, unseeing, out at the sea of lights that was his beautiful city, his own lights completely out, and any light gone from his own eyes, as well. The humans that were hurrying here and there, finishing errands, eating dinner, the younger humans, going clubbing, the little ones still in school... had they ever experienced what he was feeling right now? Cities, countries... they were like humans, right?

_It hurts..._

He turned and flopped on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

_It's okay, I understand, and I still do want to be his friend, so at least we still have that..._

He turned, away from the window, staring out at the shadowy shapes of the furniture of his room.

_So why the hell does it hurt so much? My chest hurts... It feels like my heart is missing. And this burning in my eyes..._

Belatedly, he realised something wet was running down his face.

_...Tears..._

He hadn't cried since England stole him from his brother, all those long years ago, not even through the terrible way England had treated him at first.

_Why am I crying _now_? What is this?_

_It's heartbreak, Hong Kong, _said some part of his mind, gently, if voices in your head could be gentle. Perhaps he was going mad after all. _...Your heart is breaking.__Heartbreak... I see. So this is what it is. _

_It hurts..._

* * *

So I hope you guys liked it, and that it was somewhat understandable.

This is probably going to be the last chapter in any of my HKxIce stories, for a long, long while. Not only do I have midterms and college applications to wade through, I also have a broken heart and have lost my HKmuse, probably for a long, long while.

Sorry, guys.

Ani.


End file.
